Ron’s Revenge
by Theleakyhorcrux
Summary: Ron Weasley sets out for revenge on Draco Malfoy. However, what results from his plan was not at all expected... (Draco M., Harry P)


**(A/N): READ: I actually wrote this a while ago on another account that I had. It was going to be a multiple chapter story, but I just wasn't all that happy with the following chapters after this. Anyways, I (being the responsible person I am) forgot my login information to that account. So now I'm reposting the first chapter on here as a ONE-SHOT, meaning it won't have more chapters.**

 **If you really want to read more, then the story on my other account is called You Got My Eyes, and the account name is Orsvi. It's not finished, and likely never will be. I don't recommend reading the other chapters, because they kind of (but really) suck.**

 **Anyways, I was just not proud with the story but really liked the first chapter, so I reuploaded it onto this (my new) account.**

xxx

Ron just couldn't stand Malfoy anymore, not after everything he'd done. He wouldn't stand it any longer.

 _(Earlier that morning)_

 _Ron and Harry were making their way down to the library, discussing Ron's breakup with Hermione the night before. Hermione had said that she still loved Ron, just not in... that sense. Somehow, the word had got out, and Ron had to endure many uncomfortable stares all day. He felt guilty for all the times he'd been jealous of everyone giving Harry their undivided attention; it was unnerving, really._

 _As if Merlin himself crafted this day to bring Ron down, Malfoy appeared from around the corner of the hallway. He glanced at Harry, then quickly looked away, looking, if Ron didn't know any better, rather sheepish. His eyes landed on Ron, and a sneer quickly overshadowed that rare look._

 _Ron, already in a sour mood, sneered right back, and said, "Hey, Malfoy, I'd lay low if I were you, considering you're part of the reason that many people who should still be alive are dead." He was reminded of his dead brother, Fred, who was one amongst those who should still be living. The thought only served to fuel his anger._

 _Malfoy looked stricken. His cool and aloof mask that he always maintained so well cracked, just for the smallest fraction of a second, but still long enough for Ron to notice._

 _"Ron," Harry warned as he took hold of Ron's arm, but Ron shook him off. He was tired of Malfoy believing he was superior, and if it came down to fighting, then so be it._

 _"Where's you're girlfriend, Weasley? I heard she got cold feet and dumped you. For the better, I think, since you are entirely worthless-" Ron lunged at him, but Harry immediately grabbed the back of his robes and dragged him off in the opposite direction of Malfoy. Damn him for being so noble._

 _When they turned the corner and had a safe enough distance between them and Malfoy, Ron turned to Harry, looking disgruntled. "I can't believe he would say that, after everything he's done!" Ron waited for Harry to agree with him, but instead Harry looked away uncertaintly, as if he was scared to say what he wanted. Then he spoke: "Well... you did say something to him first..."_

 _Ron looked at his best friend disbelievingly. "Why are you speaking on Malfoy's behalf?" Had Harry not heard what Draco Malfoy, his cowardly rival since first year, had said? Harry met his gaze again, and spoke, "You told him to be responsible for the deaths of many, many people. From the look on his face, he probably does, to an extent, believe it."_

 _"And he should! It's his fault!" Ron whisper-yelled. Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously at him, and though Ron was much taller than Harry, he felt like he was much, much smaller, under the heavy narrowed gaze. Ron unknowingly took a step back._

 _"It's not his fault, it's Voldemort's fault. Voldemort killed them, not Malfoy. I know what it's like to carry that guilt." Harry's voice was scarily low. "The war is over."_

 _Ron blinked, swallowed, then croaked, "Alright, mate, if you say so."_

But Ron was still fuming at Malfoy, regardless of what Harry thought. He wanted revenge on Malfoy, revenge for Fred and everyone else, and revenge he would get.

Ron knew exactly what he was going to do. He would borrow Harry's Invisibility Cloak (without Harry's knowledge) and hide just outside the Slytherin dungeons after dinner. (He'd make sure to tell Hermione that he's in the library studying, of course.) He knew Malfoy always lingered behind until all of the other Slytherins disappeared into their dorms (the slimy git had no friends), so it just made it all the more easier for Ron.

He'd have the Marauders Map with him so he'd know exactly when Malfoy was nearing the dungeon. Then he'd cast a quick and quiet Body Binding curse on him and pull Malfoy under the Invisibility Cloak with himself. It'd be a bit uncomfortable, having Malfoy in such close proximity to him, but he supposed it'd be worth it, in the end.

He'd sneak Malfoy into the Room of Requirement, as it was practically abandoned since the D.A. parted ways, and force him to drink a small vile of Veritaserum that he'd kept from a detention with Snape. Then he'd proceed to ask Malfoy super personal questions and humiliate the hell out of the slimy git. The best part is, Malfoy could never tell anyone, because he'd be so worried that Ron would expose his secrets!

The thought made him smile. Malfoy would be wrapped around his finger. It was absolutely fool-proof.

Now, it sounded cruel, Ron knew that much, but really, in comparison to everything Malfoy's done over the years, this was nothing but a little... payback. Nothing's free in this world, after all.

Ron tapped his foot impatiently at his desk. Only two more hours until dinner...

Ron sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, staring directly at an oh-so-clueless Malfoy, watching his every movement. He couldn't help but feel strongly reminded of Harry, stalking Malfoy in sixth year.

Malfoy was staring down at his food, yet he avoided actually touching it as if it were the Plague. He looked to be... oh Merlin... brooding? Blimey, a Malfoy brooding! Now that's just embarrassing!

Ron had to be careful though, because it seemed every other minute he would glance up to where Ron was sitting. It took Ron a couple of times to figure out that Malfoy wasn't looking at him; no, instead, he was looking at Harry. Intently. And the weird thing was, it seemed Malfoy was staring at Harry with... longing, perhaps. What could he be longing for? The opportunity to get his hands on Harry's neck and choke him? Probably. One more thing to add to the pile of reasons why Malfoy deserved what he would get.

For the entirety of dinner, Ron made sure to keep one eye on Malfoy at all times, though Hermione caught his eye occasionally, with a questioning look on her face.

It wasn't all that interesting, really. Malfoy would brood, then look at Harry, then sigh and go back to his brooding, and then repeat. Ron felt uncomfortable. What did Malfoy find so interesting about Harry? The slimy git was definitely planning some stunt to perform on Harry. Either way, Ron would find out soon exactly what Malfoy was planning.

Dinner came to an end, and the students made their way out of the Great Hall and to their dorms. Well, all except Malfoy, who, as always, lingered back as the students slowly cleared from the Great Hall. And still, he kept glancing at Harry, with the same expression. Like a child gazing longingly after a lollipop his mother refused to buy, though Malfoy's face was much more subtle.

He caught Hermione's arm, told her that he was going to study in the library alone, swung his bag over his shoulder, and dashed to the Slytherin dungeons.

He slipped into Myrtle's bathroom and dug in his bag for the Invisibility Cloak. He swung his bag back onto on his shoulders and pulled the Marauders Map out of his robes. He really hoped Harry wouldn't be too mad upon finding out that he had used them without Harry's permission. He'd understand though, right? Of course he would. This is the last year to get some revenge on that poor-excuse-for-a-wizard Malfoy, before he was finally rid of him once and for all.

Just as he swung the Cloak over his shoulders and made his way to leave, Moaning Myrtle floated directly in front of his path. He couldn't upset the girl, she'd blow his cover!

"Oooohh," she cooed. "A new visitor! I haven't had a visitor in ages, it gets so lonely in here!" She pouted, and then got way to close for Ron's comfort, and beamed down at him. "I remember you! You're a Weasley! I can tell by your gorgeous red hair, and — oooh, those adorable freckles! I remember your brothers, Fred and George. They were such sweethearts. They said they'd come back and visit me," she pouted, "but it's been years!" Then, as if hell itself was descending, she did what she did best: Moan. Really loudly, and Ron jumped back in surprise.

"Look, Myrtle-"

"Oh please don't leave! It gets so lonely in here!" She sobbed even louder. Bloody hell, Ron thought, no wonder no one visits her! One visit is more than enough!

"Myrtle, I promise I'll come back soon, but I really need to do something-" Moan. "And please stop bloody _moaning!_ " He looked up at her with what he hoped was innocent and promising eyes. "I promise I'll come back soon and visit you, Mo- Myrtle, but I have to do something."

She hesitated at first, but then seemed to buy into it, because she was quieting down, and reluctantly moving out of his path.

"Oh, alright, as long as you come back soon." She smiled an overly sugary smile and moved out of the way. Ron took that opportunity and dashed out as quickly as humanly possible. "I really wish you would stay though!" Myrtle called after him sulkily, but Ron did not look back. He stole a quick glance at the Marauders Map. Just one hall away from him, out of sight, was the dot labeled "Draco Malfoy."

Ron, still hidden by the Invisibility Cloak, ran for the hall near the Dungeons, and began to pull out his wand to cast a quick silencing charm-

-BOOM! Ron tripped and fell rather loudly right before he was able to cast the charm. It echoed. After a moment of holding his newly twisted ankle, he sat upright and checked the Marauders Map- the Draco Malfoy dot was still there, and was heading closer to the Ron Weasley dot.

The Cloak was still covering him, thank Dumbledore, because Malfoy appeared just around the corner. Ron stood deathly still, not daring to breathe. He positioned his wand just right to where he would get the perfect angle to over-power his rival. Malfoy was right across from him now...

Ron seized the opportunity and whispered Petrificus Totalus! causing Malfoy to freeze right in place. Ron grinned triumphantly as he limped over to Malfoy on his throbbing ankle, with one side of the Invisibility Cloak open.

Knowing that Malfoy could still see him perfectly, he threw a rude hand gesture his way, before casting a levitation charm on him. Ron may not be the best wizard on the planet, but he could pride himself in his levitation charms.

He draped the Cloak over himself and the now levitating Malfoy, directing them to the blank wall where the Room of Requirement would be summoned. As he approached, the door to the Room of Requirement slowly appeared, taking over a large portion of a used-to-be blank wall. The doors opened automatically, waiting for the two students to enter.

The room Ron conjured up was a small but comfortable one, about as big as Professor McGonagall's office. There was a coffee table sitting in between two sitting chairs, and a fire place on the far side of the room. On the coffee table was one small shot glass, the one that Malfoy would be drinking the Truth Serum from. Ron nodded to himself in approval.

He directed himself and Malfoy into the room, and waited until the door closed behind them to take the Cloak off. He shot ropes from his wand- a cool spell that Hermione taught him to use in the battle- and tied Malfoy to a chair. He proceeded to pour the Veritaserum in the shot glass on the table and forced it into Malfoy's mouth. Once he was sure that some of it was swallowed, he sat in the chair across from where Malfoy sat and lifted the petrifying curse off of him.

Malfoy jerked in the chair as if he'd been shocked, and then partially relaxed, trying to work out what had happened. Then he looked Ron dead in the eye, with a face purple and contorted with pure, unadulterated rage. "You slimy, pathetic little bastard," he whispered. He didn't need to raise his voice, because there was still just as much venom. Ron didn't think he'd ever seen Malfoy this angry before. Ron found himself inching back in his seat, until he remembered who was in control here.

"What is your full name?" asked Ron.

Without hesitation, Malfoy answered, "Draco Lucius Malfoy." Then his eyes widened; he seemed to realize what the hell he'd just been forced to drink.

"What day is your birthday?"

"The fifth of June."

This is going to be interesting. Malfoy not only looked angrier than ever before, but he also looked quite terrified. He should be, really; Ron was in complete control, and Malfoy couldn't keep any secret of his to himself. For some reason, the thought wasn't as satisfying as he'd been thinking it would be.

Malfoy kept his mouth shut, but there were already veins bulging on his neck and forehead.

Ron briefly went over what questions he should ask first, but found his mind strangely blank. He looked back up at Malfoy, who was looking anywhere but Ron. Ron decided he would just go on pure instinct.

He took a deep breath and spoke: "Why did you refuse to kill Dumbledore?"

Ron didn't even realize what he had asked until Malfoy began to respond.

"I'm too weak to murder anybody. Even though I disagreed with a lot of things Dumbledore thought, I didn't hate him. When he offered me help and protection, even though I had my wand pointed at him, threatening to kill him, I couldn't find it in myself to do it." Malfoy was visibly shaken and horrified with the words that had rolled off of his tongue. He looked at Ron and hissed, "I hate you," in such a snake-like manner Ron wouldn't have been suprised if he'd actually spoken Parcel-tongue.

And Malfoy, of course, was actually telling the truth. This brought Ron to his next question: "Why do you hate me and Harry and Hermione so much?"

"I hate you, because of your actions right now. I only disliked you before. And I don't hate Granger or Potter."

Ron blinked, and blinked again. He raised an eyebrow at Malfoy, as if to ask an unspoken question: 'What do you mean you don't hate Hermione or Harry?' But Malfoy wouldn't answer Ron unless the Veritaserum forced him to, of course. So he had to actually speak the question.

"What do you mean you don't hate them?"

"I mean exactly what I said: I don't hate them."

Ron breathed out sharply in impatience. He would have to be even more straight-forward with Malfoy, if he was going to get to the gold. That would be easy, though, Ron reasoned. He just has to word his questions correctly.

"How do you feel about Hermione?"

Malfoy's eyes widened a bit; now that Ron looked at him, he looked a bit sick and sweat was starting to show on his face.

"I'm jealous of Granger."

Malfoy, jealous of Hermione? That seemed unlikely. Although it did make sense that he would be jealous of the girl who made top-marks. Malfoy had to be telling the truth, and sometimes the truth was hard to believe. Ron knew that all too well. He nodded slowly before asking his next question: "How do you feel about Harry?"

Malfoy squirmed heavily in his chair, looked as far away from Ron as possible, and answered, to Ron's astonishment, "I fancy him." He continued to look away, seemingly more helpless and weaker than he'd looked even in the Feindfyre.

Ron gaped at him for a long time, his mouth hanging open, eyes wide, head loosely hanging from his neck. Ron was feeling... well, a lot. Saying he was shocked at Malfoy's words was like saying Voldemort was only a little bit scary. Malfoy fancies Harry? No, Malfoy has got to be lying. Maybe he really is faking, and didn't really drink the Veritaserum. There was no way that Malfoy actually fancied Harry.

"What is the most embarrassing moment of your life?" Ron asked hastily, checking to see if Malfoy would hesitate or show any sign of self-control.

"When Mad-Eye turned me into a ferret in fourth year. But now I'm starting to think this might just top that." There was not a flicker of reluctance on Malfoy's features or in his eyes. He seemed to be completely honest, and did not hesitate to answer, just like one under Veritaserum would act. Ron's insides stirred, and he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Malfoy really is telling the truth. He really does fancy Harry. He took a few deep breaths and tried to contain himself, while Malfoy stirred desperately in the ropes.

"Why do you fancy Harry?" was all Ron could manage to force out of himself; he could barely breathe, much less speak.

Malfoy had his face scrunched up; clearly he was not enjoying this one bit. But why should he? This couldn't be any easier to him than it was to Ron.

"Because of the way he looked the Dark Lord in the eye and didn't even flinch, and because of his courage, his determination, his skills at Quidditch, and the fact that he saved my life even though he hates me. I don't like that he hates me. He does hate me, doesn't he?" Ron felt a surge of sympathy wash over him from the vulnerability in Malfoy's voice, until Malfoy spoke, "Now let me out of these damn ropes, Weasley!" Malfoy looked to be pleading now, but Ron couldn't even make a snarky comment to himself about Malfoy pleading, because his mind and logic and everything he knew about Malfoy had been chewed up and spit right back out in front of him, scattered in pieces that could not be repaired.

Malfoy, the straight, perfect, pure blooded teenager, is a fairy.

Malfoy, the rival of Harry Potter, fancies Harry.

Malfoy, the Hufflepuff hater, has a bit more Hufflepuff in him then he'd like to admit.

And at this moment, Malfoy, the calm, cool, contained Slytherin, was breaking down in front of Ron's very eyes.

"Weasley, I swear on my bloody life that I will seriously hurt you if you don't let me go!" The sound of Malfoy's shaky voice and the sight of sweat visibly dripping from his face snapped Ron out of his daze. With shaky hands, he reached to grab Malfoy's wand from the pockets of the owner's robes. Malfoy jumped from the unexpected contact, and his eyes clouded with anxious worry. From this close up, Ron could clearly see each line of worry and fear etched on his features, and, even though there was poor lighting in the room, there seemed to be absolutely no blood left in Malfoy's sweat streaked face.

And Ron felt absolutely horrible.

Ron swallowed and cleared his throat, trying to pick up the pieces of his mind. "I'm taking your wand so you won't hex my bits off, Malfoy. Before I release you, I'd like to make a deal."

Malfoy, despite his not-very-well-hidden fear, glowered angrilly at Ron, but before he could say any actual protest, Ron cut him off. "If you don't mention me forcing you to drink Veritaserum to anyone, then I won't tell anyone about your little c-crush," Ron choked on the word, "on Harry. Now, if you do decide to do what you do best and run your ignorant mouth, or bully me, Hermione, or Harry, I promise you that everyone will know about your crush before you can say Dumbledore."

Malfoy blinked.

Ron blinked.

Neither of them knew Ron had that in him, and Ron felt unnerved at how Slytherin he sounded just then.

It must have been the right thing to say, though, because Malfoy (his face was now a mixture of bone-white and cherry-red) simply nodded and looked away.

Ron vanished the ropes and gave Malfoy back his wand, while pointing his own at Malfoy, right at the nape of his neck.

Without a word, Malfoy slipped out of the Room of Requirement, refusing to meet Ron's eyes. His body was trembling (and not because of the sudden absence of the ropes that held him so tightly before) and the valley between his shoulder-blades on his back was drenched. In that last second that Ron saw him, Malfoy looked terrified and broken.

Ron waited a few moments before pulling on the Invisibility Cloak and walking back to the common room. As he walked the halls, he took a moment to actually think about what Malfoy had said.

Draco Malfoy, former Death-Eater and Model Slytherin, fancied Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World.

Though Ron truly hated to admit it, he couldn't help but think that, in some ways, it made sense. It would certainly explain the longful glances that Malfoy cast at Harry so frequently. And they had been obsessed with each other since first year...

Oh no.

Wait a minute. No. That couldn't be possible. There's no way in the deepest pits of hell that Harry fancies Draco sodding Malfoy. Even if he had been obsessed with Malfoy since first year, and had been keeping tabs on Malfoy's every movement, and even went as far as to risk his life to save Malfoy when the git clearly didn't deserve it... Ron remembered the look of pure determination and fire (not the Feindfyre) inside of Harry's eyes, and how there was no room for protest when he shouted, "We have to save them!" and how he went for Malfoy instead of Crabbe and Goyle...

But, no, it can't be possible, he couldn't fancy Malfoy, of all people...

Harry didn't seem to have much of an interest in girls, though...

He had to figure this out.

Sometime tomorrow, he decided, he would confront Hermione and tell her everything. Hermione said she still loved him, right? And she was smart... he would just have to leave out some... a lot... of details.

"Butter-scotch," he whispered to the Fat-Lady, and climbed in through the portrait hole with the Invisibility Cloak thrown across his shoulder. Hermione sat alone on the sofa, a book in her lap. She looked at Ron and greeted him with a suspicious and disapproving look.

"Hi, Ronald."

"Hullo, 'Mione," he said nervously, picking up the dangerous tone in the way she said 'Ronald'. "How's that book going?"

"I went to the library earlier," she said, ignoring Ron's attempt to direct the conversation elsewhere. "I didn't see you, and I wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything _stupid_ like always, so I went to check the Marauders Map, only to discover it was gone. So that got me thinking: you were in a hurry to leave dinner, and you did seem distracted all through out it." She looked pointedly to the half-invisible cloak across his shoulder. "Nice cloak you got there, Ron. It wouldn't be necessary to use in the library, would it?" She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Where were you tonight?"

Ron blinked, surprised at himself for thinking he could possibly fool Hermione. He sighed and put his hands up in the air defeatedly.

"Look, 'Mione. It's been a really long night, and I just found something... completely baffling, and I promise I will you everything tomorrow, but I really need to get my head straight, because it's as if my mind's been smashed into a billion pieces."

Her hard look softened slightly, but she didn't say anything, willing Ron to go on further.

Ron sighed. "It has to do with Draco Malfoy," he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Hermione nodded slowly, before smiling softly and turning her attention back to her book. "Alright. Good night, Ron."

This was one of the many things Ron loved about Hermione; Hermione was always understanding, and never pressured someone into doing or admitting something they absolutely weren't ready for. Exactly the opposite of what Ron had done tonight.

As Ron climbed into bed and pulled the covers over himself, guilt and self-disgust and faint anger seemed to carry him away tonight.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy paced back and forth in the privacy of his dormitory, trying his best to calm down and willing himself not to lose all composure in worry of Harry Potter finding out and rejecting him for the second time.

 **This is just a one-shot, not really a cliff hanger I don't think. Please leave love and reviews!**

 **~theleakyhorcrux**


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